


Lipstick Kisses

by mishasscruff



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:22:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishasscruff/pseuds/mishasscruff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's got an aversion to lipstick. Misha wants to change his mind about that.</p><p>Set after Misha's panel at VanCon '12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lipstick Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from tumblr and somewhat inspired by Kris' text post saying, "ok lbrh misha might have just given the poster one kiss on the cheek, but the real thing is gonna be covered in a hell of a lot more lipstick kisses"
> 
> Misha has awakened my lipstick kink.

When Jensen arrives at the hotel late Saturday night to prepare for the following fan-filled day, he’s not really all that surprised to find Misha waiting in his room. They’re friends, after all. He is, however, surprised to find Misha’s lips are stained a deep red.

“Are you wearing lipstick?” Jensen’s paused in front of the door, letting it click closed behind him, eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion.

There’s a small huff of laughter from Misha as he rises from the couch where he was waiting. “I am. How does it look on me? Do you think it’s my color?”  
Jensen can detect a small hint of a smirk playing on Misha’s stained lips, which he’s having trouble looking away from. All he can see is the way the color makes Misha’s lips look fuller, and he’s starting to entertain ideas of ways to remove that lipstick from the other man’s lips with his own mouth when he realizes just how close Misha’s gotten.

The smirk is full-blown now, which means Jensen must’ve been silent long enough for Misha to guess what’s going through his mind. “You haven’t answered my question, Jen,” and oh God, Misha’s somehow leaning even closer. 

His heart is pounding in his chest, but he manages to string together a few words in reply. “Y’know, I never really been a big fan of lipstick. Too messy. Gets everywhere.” He’s giving himself a mental pat on the back for being able to form a coherent response - especially when he’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Misha is _wearing fucking lipstick_ , and it’s turning him on more than he ever thought a dude wearing lipstick would - when Misha starts to pull back.

The smirk is slowly fading off Misha’s face, and Jensen doesn’t like that. “The fans really seemed to enjoy it.” 

_Wait, what?_ “Have you been wearing this all day?” His mind races at the thought of Misha parading around all day like this. He wouldn’t put it past him.

“No, only during my panel, but I had to leave my mark.” The grin is back, bright red lips stretching over pearly whites.

As confused as Jensen is, he’s still turned on by the sight. “On what?”

“You.” Misha makes an odd little head roll accompanied with a little shrug. “Well, it was a picture of you - and Jared - but I think I still got my point across.”

Before Jensen can even ask what Misha is talking about, there’s a hand against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and he’s being pulled in closer to the older man until Misha’s lips are covering his, Misha’s beard smooth against his lightly stubbled chin.

He could tell Misha’s lips were slightly chapped even under the waxy feel of the lipstick, but when he feels a tongue slide across his bottom lip, he forgets about everything else. His hands come up to frame the sides of Misha’s face, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. There’s no hesitance when their tongues slide together, trying to entwine around each other.

When Misha pulls back this time, they’re both breathing harder. The hand not clutched in his shirt is now tracing over his lips where he’s sure the lipstick has transferred. 

Misha’s smiling again when he says, “I concede the point that it’s a bit messy, but I’m really going to enjoy marking you up.”

The hand on Jensen’s chest uncurls from his shirt, sliding down until it reaches the hem. It stays there for a moment, just teasing, and he’s not sure Misha’s going to make a move until there’s a warm palm pressing flat against his abdomen. One of his own hands slides back into Misha’s hair, twisting in it to drag him back in for another kiss as the one hand under his shirt turns into two, and they’re both moving up, taking his shirt with them. 

The kiss is broken briefly as the shirt is removed, and Misha takes this opportunity to crowd Jensen back, the hat from Jensen’s earlier bike ride with Jared and Steve falls to the floor, along with his shirt, when it knocks into the door Jensen’s pushed up against. Misha’s always been one to go for what he wants, and right now it’s got Jensen achingly hard, which his bike shorts are doing nothing to hide.

Misha’s grin turns feral as his head dips down to quickly swipe his tongue across Jensen’s collarbone before proceeding further down. Jensen can feel the heat of Misha’s breath puffing out over his nipple, teasing him. When he glances down, Misha’s blue eyes are staring back up at him, and Jensen watches as Misha swirls his tongue around the hardening nipple, warm and wet. His head falls back against the door with a soft thud, and Misha’s name falls out from between his lips when the man’s lips close around the tiny nub and begin to suck gently. 

He never realized his nipples were this sensitive.

When Misha moves to lavish attention on the other side, leaving a red ring of lipstick in his wake, Jensen feels familiar hands return to his waist. Deft fingers play with the waistband of his shorts, dipping in to caress at the smooth skin there, and Jensen’s muscles tense at the faintly ticklish touch. 

There’s a sudden lack of warmth, and Jensen manages to open his eyes again, looking down, only to find Misha now on his knees in front of Jensen.

_“Fuck, Mish.”_

“That’s the plan,” Misha says as he tugs down the elastic band of the bike shorts, freeing Jensen from it’s confines, and Jensen’s suddenly aware how unbalance their positions are with Misha still fully clothed.

His hold, still in Misha’s hair, tightens as Misha places light kisses along the contours of his hips, while lightly calloused hands run up the inside of his thighs. Heat’s already starting to pool at the base of his spine. 

Then Misha wraps his hand around Jensen’s leaking erection just as Misha begins mouthing at Jensen’s balls, and he can’t help it when his hips thrust forward seeking out more contact. Misha obliges by slowly stroking, giving a little twist at the head of his cock and helping to spread the precome down his shaft. The grip is tight enough to give Jensen pleasure, but not enough to get him off in the long run. He tugs on the thick strands between his fingers, hoping Misha will get the hint that he needs so much more.

Misha’s free hand comes up to replace his mouth, gently rolling Jensen’s ballsack between nimble fingers, leaving his mouth free now to suck at the tip of his cock. A warm, wet tongue slides over the tip, collecting the bitter liquid beading there, then circles around the head causing Jensen to groan out. 

The light sucking continues as Misha moves further down his cock, and Jensen loves how Misha looks on his knees, cheeks hollowed, with Jensen moving in an out between his red stained lips. The last traces of which are leaving rings around the shaft of his cock, and the sight of it all brings him closer to the edge. 

Misha must be able to feel Jensen’s balls tightening up in his palm because his movements increase, taking him as deep as he can manage. Jensen can feel it when Misha moans around him, the vibrations spreading across him like a burning fire, and he’s done. He pulls harshly at Misha’s hair as a warning, but Misha holds fast, pulling back to just the tip and running the tip of his tongue along the edge.

Jensen’s body seizes up, eyes squeezing shut, as the heat pooling at his spine just seems to burst out and slowly trickle it’s way through every extremity of his body. He can faintly hear himself muttering Misha’s name over sound of rushing blood in his ears. As he comes down from his amazing orgasmic high, he glances at Misha to find him pulling off his softening erection, trying to lick away the last bits of come that managed to dribble down into the scruff of his beard.

It’s Jensen’s turn to tug Misha up and into another kiss, helping him out by licking away the stray strands of come, the wiry looking beard strangely soft against his tongue, and tasting himself isn’t nearly as bad as he thought it would be either.

Jensen moves forward, closer, hand reaching for the bulge in Misha’s jeans, but Misha steps away, effectively breaking their kiss while long finger wrapping around Jensen’s wrist. “Next time. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

The lipstick is mostly gone now, only the faint stain left on Misha’s lips to indicate there ever was any, but Misha leans in to presses a kiss to Jensen’s cheek before side-stepping him and exiting the room. 

He manages to drag himself into bed after such a long, exhausting day, with the promise of next time playing in his mind, and when Jensen wakes up in the morning to get ready for the day, he pauses in the mirror to examine the many red lipstick stains across his torso and around dick. The only ones he decides to scrub off are the ones on his face. The rest stay hidden under his clothes throughout the day as he meets with the fans.


End file.
